Conventions
by shedoc
Summary: We've all been stuck at boring conventions for work or school right? How about being stuck at one for Sentinels and Guides?
1. Sentinel Con

SentinelCon.

Disclaimer: The Sentinel, Blair Sandburg, Jim Ellison, Simon Banks,

and all other characters are property of Paramount and Pet Fly. No copyright

infringement is intended, and no money has exchanged hands.

Sentinel Con.

by Shedoc

0o0o0

Jim stood at the top of the stairs and stared at his bed in loathing. Plagued

for the past fortnight by unsettling dreams and visions, Jim had come to detest

the very idea of sleep. Blair hadn't fared much better - he woke at least twice

a night to check on Jim, sometimes waking his Sentinel from the nightmares,

sometimes coming up the stairs in time to soothe Jim back to sleep.

Jim hated the idea that his Guide woke so often to check on him - depriving

himself of a restful night by default. There was a creak from the stairs behind

Jim and he turned to watch Blair walk up them, carrying a mug of hot milk dosed

with vanilla. The soothing scent reached out to Jim without his conscious

effort.

"Hot milk, Chief?" Jim sounded amused, "Is this one of those secret Shaman

cures?"

"Yeah I chanted over it and stirred it anti clockwise," Blair cracked and Jim

felt a genuine chuckle emerge. He was grateful that Blair could make him laugh

and took the proffered drink, letting Blair usher him to bed. Jim had been

unable to recall the dreams that disturbed him, adding frustration to his lack

of sleep. Blair had peeled down the sheets and pushed Jim into bed, sitting on

the mattress beside his Sentinel and taking the empty mug.

"Scoot on down now," Blair continued the mock paternal act, and Jim was only too

willing to go along with it- it was an endearing effort and he appreciated

Blair's efforts. William Ellison had never been a real tuck-you-in type.

"Read me a story?" Jim asked, mostly for the look Blair would get on his face

and was well rewarded.

Blair put the mug on the floor and urged Jim to curl onto his side, back to him.

Jim sighed when his Guide's hand started tracing circles between his shoulder

blades, and felt the muscles in his body loosen.

"Once upon a time," Blair's voice was warm and soft - not the Guide Voice, a

different tone. Blair's voice filled the darkness as he told Jim a fairy tale

from childhood and by the end Jim was asleep.

Blair woke next morning and immediately cursed himself silently for not waking

up to check on Jim. True - he'd been approaching exhaustion, but Jim should not

have been left alone to face the dreams and surely would not have come down

stairs for comfort. Blair wondered why he hadn't woken and stilled as he

realized his Sentinel was lying beside him, head resting up against Blair's

shoulder, hand on Blair's arm. Jim had turned his body in to Blair's and Blair

sighed. Obviously the subconscious had taken over and Jim had climbed into bed

for protection last night. The problem now was that Jim's subconscious wouldn't

stick around long enough to ease any embarrassment Jim felt when he woke - and

that was going to be an eleven on a scale of five!

Jim stirred and Blair used the moment to try to slip out of bed - hopefully he

could fake Jim into thinking Blair had slept on the couch. No such luck, Jim

reached for him, waking as he did.

"Good morning," Blair said, as if it was an everyday occurrence for the older

man to climb into his roommate's bed after a nightmare. Jim frowned a little,

confused.

"Sleep better?" Blair asked, deciding that plan B was to make Jim think this was

all Blair's idea. Jim woke up a little and realized where was. He pulled Blair

closer and smothered his face in Blair's chest. Blair put his arms around Jim

and stroked his shoulders and back.

"Bad one, huh?" all idea of lying went out of his head as he tried to comfort

Jim.

"Peru - we should go to Peru. I dreamed of Peru. The others will be there too,"

Jim's voice was muffled but rational.

"Ok," Blair agreed, not pressing for details, "I'll call Simon - you know he's

been worried. Then I'll try to get us a flight to Peru."

He made as if to slide out of bed and Jim's grip tightened. Blair settled back

and waited until Jim could stand to let go. He hoped that this wasn't some long

delayed reaction to the whole mess with Alex Barnes. Either way they'd go to

Peru.

0o0o0

Blair slept uneasily on the plane. Never a good flyer, the nightmare that had

put Jim in his bed had now attached itself to Blair. The night after Jim had

clambered into Blair's bed Blair had taken his pillow upstairs and settled in

with Jim for the night, a proceeding which Jim had felt a little embarrassed but

very relieved over. That night Jim had snuggled into Blair's chest and slept

through without a single dream.

Jim listened to Blair's uneasy mumbles and twitched the blanket on Blair's lap a

little higher. A fold of the blanket hid Jim's hand from view - that hand was

holding Blair's in an effort to stem the fright of take off and flight. Jim

wondered if he was embarrassed at showing publicly how he felt for Blair - even

after all these years and experiences they'd shared. Jim twitched the fold of

blanket away from his hand and leaned back in his cramped seat, wishing he were

Blair's shorter height for a change.

The grip on his hand tightened and Blair twitched and shuddered powerfully, his

heart rate spiking.

"Blair," Jim said softly, trying to wake his partner without scaring him

further, "Blair, you ok?"

A flight steward hurried towards them, concern on his face when Blair moaned.

"Chief!" Jim commanded, "Wake up!"

Blair's eyes popped open and he slumped back in his seat. His breathing was

ragged.

"Sorry," Blair apologized carefully, "Sorry."

"Are you all right, sir?" the steward asked and Blair nodded. He was blushing

and gripping Jim's hand pretty tightly.

"A bottle of water would be appreciated," he told the steward, "It's just an old

nightmare."

"Certainly, sir," the steward hurried away and returned with the bottle and a

glass full of ice chips. He handed them to Jim, and left them to recover. Jim

twisted the bottle cap off one handed and poured the water out, giving the glass

to Blair and stroking the back of Blair's hand with his thumb as Blair sipped at

the water and stared at the carpet in the aisle, slowing his breathing and

loosening his grip.

"Want to tell me about it?" Jim asked and Blair shook his head. The Guide smiled

at Jim genuinely and let go, finishing the water and putting the glass in the

indentation in the tray.

"Like I said, an old nightmare - don't worry about it," Blairs voice was strong,

but not loud. The steward walked by, rather obviously and Blair giggled.

"I wonder what would happen if I clutched my heart and fell into the aisle?" he

sounded natural again and Jim growled at him.

"I'll personally use you as a punching bag and let all the passengers here have

a go too," he replied and settled back into the miserably small seat.

"Actually, Jim, no-one would let you. You see in close quarters like this people

rapidly develop a miniature society of their own…." Blair launched into lecture

mode without pause and Jim was glad to listen. If the kid could lecture him then

there couldn't be anything too badly wrong. The anthropologist had decreased his

tendency to lecture after being awarded his doctorate. On the other hand his

tendency to write everything down had increased. Jim figured that Dr. Sandburg

was finding his superiors at the PD to be avid readers of anything that related

to his unique field. Sometimes it hurt to think that the only people reading of

Blair's genius were politically motivated cops, but hadn't there been a rumor

that the Commander of the Academy wanted Blair to teach a course there?

Blair transferred the blanket from his lap to Jims and smiled without

interrupting his monologue. The tactic had worked - his voice had soothed the

Sentinel into sleep, hopefully one free of nightmares.

Jim stepped up to the reception desk in the hotel and waited for the dark eyed

girl to notice him. He'd slept soundly on the flight, listening to Blair talk

the whole time. When he woke he realised that Blair's lecture had drawn in the

attention of the people across the aisle and the seats in front and behind him.

He had teased Blair that the Doctor should charge a fee and the audience had

laughed when Blair flushed.

He was looking around the foyer now - a sunny place with plants strategically

placed to shade couches and phones. It was a modern hotel with pictures of

temples on the walls, and Blair was making disapproving noises in his throat

that only Jim could hear.

"Good afternoon sir, may I help you?" the receptionists' voice was pleasant and

polished.

"Good afternoon. You have reservations for Jim Sentinel and Blair Guide?" Jim

asked, and was aware of Blair staring at him in astonishment, before schooling

his voice into acceptance of his new name.

"Oh yes, the joint family reunion. I have two adjoining rooms for you sir, if

you'd like to sign in?" she didn't even blink at the unusual names and the

partners signed in. They received their keys and she handed over nametags and an

itinerary for them. Blair contained himself until they were in the privacy of

his room - having opened the connecting doors.

"Where'd the names come from?" Blair let his tone be accusing and Jim folded his

arms in defense.

"The dream," Jim replied flatly, "It was in the dream. I told you that the

others would be here."

"Other Guides and Sentinels," Blair shook his head, "Suddenly I wish I'd just

committed you in Cascade instead of coming out here."

"What! Blair that's a little extreme, don't you think?" Jim protested and Blair

shivered, wrapping his arms around his body. Jim put his hands on Blair's

shoulders and squeezed. He knew that Blair would never have let him go insane in

Cascade.

"It's not going to be another Alex," Jim vowed, and Blair smiled at his

Sentinel, knowing that even after all these years Jim still freaked at the

thought of Alex Barnes and her homicidal tendencies. He caught the pain in Jim's

eyes and changed the subject for his Sentinel.

"When do we have to be downstairs for our family reunion?" he asked and Jim let

go to look at the itinerary on Blair's table.

"Five thirty for six o'clock," Jim cocked an eyebrow at his partner, "Did you

bring a tie?"

They wore their nametags, though Jim fussed about it until Blair threatened to

stick it in a very illogical place. The two rooms adjoined a larger dining area,

and one had 'Sentinel' taped up on the door, the other 'Guide'. Jim hesitated

outside the door and Blair gave him a strong nudge.

"See you at dinner, Jim. Go and be sociable," the Guide smiled and turned,

walking quickly down the corridor and into the Guide room without pause. The

Sentinel sighed and stepped inside.

Blair grinned at the six people inside the room - a mix of races and gender. A

mix of ages and personalities too.

"Blair," he identified himself and was waved in by the others.

"That makes all of us," one of the men said and Blair closed the door, scooped

up a bottle of water and joined them in the windows.

"Hi," he said to the nervous teenager standing next to him. She blinked in

apprehension and pushed stringy black hair off her face. She was thin and

generally untidy; despite wearing what cops called 'good clothes'.

"Hi," her voice was hesitant, "I…"

"What's wrong?" Blair said gently, and laid a hand on her shoulder carefully.

"Its just that I'm not quite sure what we're doing here," she blurted out, "I

mean my best friends brother was freaking out on them, and I managed to calm him

down - he said I helped him control all the sensitivity. Then he started having

dreams and we ended up here."

Her nametag said Ebony and Blair noticed the other Guides all moving to reassure

her - it was instinctual.

"So you've been a Guide for a few weeks?" Blair asked and Ebony nodded.

"And your Sentinel is?" he prodded. Ebony frowned at the unusual name and then

her face cleared.

"Sean," Ebony's face softened at the thought of her partner and Blair smiled

too, "What's a Sentinel?"

"A Sentinel is a person whose five senses are much sharper than a normal

person's. They require a Guide - someone to watch their back and teach them how

to use their senses without becoming overwhelmed," Blair told her, and the other

Guides nodded. Blair had a fair idea that this was news to two of them, but

didn't want to call them on it - obviously not everyone read as much as he did.

"So I'm a Guide?" Ebony smiled, "Wow! I can really help him?"

"We all have. I've been a Guide for two years now," the speaker was a willowy

woman with red hair boiling fiercely away from her head. Her skin was very pale

and freckled; her English accent spoke of London's East End. Her nametag was

stuck to the front of glittery material and said Sarah.

"And me," said the burly man beside her - an Asian with spiky hair and a linen

suit. His nametag said Lee and his voice was very deep.

"I've been a Guide for three years," laughed the man in the Hawaiian shirt. His

straight hair was pulled back in a pony tail and his shorts showed legs with

muscles like little lumps. A wispy goatee completed the look. His nametag read

Tom.

"I outrank you - four years and counting," his name was Charlie and he laughed

deeply at them; he was barrel chested, tree trunk thighs and bulging biceps.

Blair grinned at him.

"Well if we're talking rank then I win - twenty-six years and counting. We've

been partners since we were four - when she fully emerged as a Sentinel," Rory

was a tall black man with short cropped hair and a very serene groove.

"Wow, twenty-six whole years!" Ebony grinned, "Do Sentinels last that long?"

"Sentinels are for life," Rory rumbled, "As long as they choose to be."

Obviously someone else had had the troubles and dreams Jim had early on in their

partnership. Did all Sentinels lose their abilities and go through an initiation

like that?

"So where do you rank?" Sarah asked Blair, who laughed at them. As if there was

rank among Guides and Sentinels.

"Eight years and counting," he replied with a smile. Rory dropped a hand on his

shoulder and Blair looked up at the tall man.

"But while we will Guide our Sentinels through this mission, Blair will Guide

and save us all. He is the Shaman of our dream," Rory told the others and a

chill ran up Blair's spine as they all stared at him. For a moment he thought

Sarah mouthed the words 'the wolf', but he wasn't sure.

"Man, if our Sentinels could see us now they'd laugh themselves into a coma,"

Rory took his hand and the pressure off Blair as the others laughed.

They began swapping stories and techniques with each other, laughing at the

similarities in their experience, and trying not to freak the new Guide out.

0o0o0

Jim looked at the other six people in the room and knew them to be Sentinels.

Panther growls sounded in his ears for a moment before a lithe white woman

laughed and waved him over.

"Stop it," she told everyone, "No-one has territory here."

"Jim Ellison," he introduced himself.

"Terry Carson," she replied, and they shook hands. A teenager stirred against

the wall and Terry shot him a smile.

"This is Paul. He emerged as a Sentinel a few months ago," she said to Jim, and

he instantly understood why the youngster was so nervous - all his senses would

be redlining and his Guide was in another room.

The other Sentinels stepped forward and said hello.

There was a short silence. Everyone stood still and looked around awkwardly.

Jim extended his hearing to check on Blair. His Guide was laughing at something,

and others were laughing with him. They sounded relaxed and calm.

"Trust our Guides to be having a good time," Terry laughed and the others opened

their hearing too.

Judging by the tentativeness the others showed Jim could place how long they'd

been Sentinels and how far their training had progressed. He catalogued them and

noticed Terry doing the same. She was more experienced than Jim was, he realised

and she winked at him. He was street ahead of the others, but she was a city

ahead of him.

"Trust our Guides to break the ice," Jim grinned and the kid laughed, "Mine

would talk under wet cement if he had the chance."

The Sentinels laughed and began to swap Guide stories.

By the time the maitre de let the two family groups into the dining room they

were comfortable enough with each other to be relaxed about meeting their

partners. Dinner was not noisy, but not quiet either as the two groups exchanged

friendly 'see what I mean' looks with each other. After dinner they retired to

the pool. After dinner drinks and general chitchat kept them occupied for a few

hours and then everyone retired for the night. Jim and Blair had their doors

open again as they got ready for bed. Something told Jim he would be all right

tonight - no more nightmares would bother him. He was worried about Blair

though, so he'd keep the door open.

Someone knocked on Blair's door and the Guide opened it without taking any of

the precautions that Jim had tried to instill in his partner. Eight years had

done little to change the trusting nature of Blair, though he had toughened a

little.

"Ebony!" Blair sounded surprised and stood aside to let the Asian woman in. Her

Sentinel's name was Sean and Blair settled them both into the chairs the hotel

had provided. He sat on the corner of the bed, so they formed a triangle, and

smiled at Sean's uncommunicative expression.

"So, Ebony. What's up?" he asked the Guide. It was obviously her idea to come

here.

"I want you to be Sean's Guide," Ebony blurted, "I don't know enough to help him

out - I mean really help him, and you know so much. You could probably teach him

how to be a good Sentinel and I'd be really grateful. I could work with Jim - he

could teach me how to be a proper Guide."

Blair sat still and let her get it all out. The shadow at the door told him that

Jim was listening.

"No," Blair said simply, "Ebony - I'm a doctor of anthropology. I'd read about

Sentinels long before I met Jim. I'd even found evidence of one or two people

with a single heightened sense…"

"But I didn't even know that Sean was a Sentinel," Ebony protested, "How can I

be a Guide when I don't know what I'm doing."

"Ebony - I didn't know what I was doing at first either. Sure, I read a lot and

tried to teach Jim from what I'd learned and what I'd experienced in my own life

… but there were days when I wondered if I was going to kill him with my

ignorance," Blair kept his voice gentle. He grinned at her; "I can lend you all

the books you'd ever want, if it's knowledge you want."

"But Sean needs…"

"Besides," Blair overrode her in the stern voice that had pulled several errant

citizens into line over the years. It worked here too, "There's one very

important fact that you're overlooking."

Ebony made a hopeless gesture and Blair leaned forward, smiling at Sean and

touching Ebony on the knee.

The emotions blowing around the room were exhausting.

"When Sean first began having problems - did his family try to help?"

"Yeah," Sean spoke up for the first time, "They couldn't help. Their voices and

hands hurt me even though they were trying to be gentle."

"But you Ebony, you got through to him. You could soothe things down when he

couldn't. It's your voice and your smell and your touch that calls him back. And

no matter how much I know about Sentinels and no matter how much experience I've

had I won't be able to Guide Sean now. Because he'll always be waiting for you

to pull him out," Blair's voice filled the room with certainty and support. Jim

chose to enter now, and he sat on the bed beside his friend.

"I've pulled out of zones for other people before - our colleagues are well

versed in Guiding me," Jim spoke up, "But it's Sandburg here who knows me best -

I can find him no matter where I am, no matter how deep I go."

"You're an anthropologist too?" Ebony frowned.

"No. I'm a cop," Jim frowned, "Sandburg joined the cops after a nasty little

mess of our own making. He got his doctorate at about the same time."

"The Guide and the Sentinel stay together. No matter what," Blair was glad that

Jim's hand was on his shoulder. He saw Sean's face light up as Blair verbalized

the instinct that he'd been unable to explain to Ebony.

"I'm guessing here, but part of the problem in Sean's family right - they don't

understand why you could reach him and they couldn't. It's caused tension,

right?" Blair smiled, "Don't fret about it. In a few months they'll have

accepted things and it'll all blow over. Do you two have a job in mind for the

future?"

"I don't know," Sean replied, "Something I can use my senses for."

"It's an instinct of the Sentinel to protect the tribe," Blair told him, "It's

genetic. Maybe you two could go into Search and Rescue or something like that -

Jim's a cop, but there's more to life than police work."

"That's what he says," Jim grumbled, amused, "But you should see him in pursuit

of a suspect."

Blair laughed and shrugged Ebony and Sean joining in. The future opened up for

the new Sentinel and his Guide.

0o0o0

"So, why are we all gathered here today?" Terry asked over breakfast, "I thought

we'd have some kind of dream last night that would tell us all the details, but

there was nothing."

"Best night we've had in a while," Rory nodded.

"It's the Temple," Blair blurted, "I think we have to go to the Temple of

Light."

Silence for a moment then Sarah laughed nervously.

"This is starting to sound like an Indiana Jones movie," she blurted and Blair

smiled.

"It's a temple dedicated to Sentinels - Jim and I have been there before," he

explained, trying to ignore the reasons behind their last trip and the nightmare

on the plane.

"So how do we get to the temple?" Sean asked and pulled a face, "We don't have

to ride llama's or something?"

This earned him a laugh and Jim shook his head.

"We charter a helicopter to take us?" Charlie guessed his hand on his still

sleepy Sentinels shoulder. Obviously there was a possible zone here, and Charlie

was pre-empting it with touch.

"We hike in," Blair told them, "It's not far and we should be able to do it by

tomorrow night if we leave today."

Silence greeted that statement. A few people shifted nervously.

"We didn't exactly kit up for a jungle trek before coming," Sean told Blair,

"And it's a jungle out there - shouldn't we have weapons and stuff?"

"We will kit up before we go - and we'll have enough protection with us. If

seven Sentinels can't detect and avoid danger in the jungle then we're in real

trouble," Blair's voice was serene with an edge of steel behind it. He was

determined and wouldn't stop until they'd all been bullied into agreeing to go -

Jim recognized that in a heartbeat. Fortunately the Guides all seemed to

understand because they started whispering to their Sentinels - persuading them,

Jim realised when he selectively extended his hearing.

Blair sat still and focussed, meeting eyes and exuding strength. Jim put a hand

on his shoulder and Blair shot him a glance and a smile that no one missed.

By just after lunchtime they were walking into the jungle from the road where

they'd parked the vehicles that Blair had suggested they hire to cut down on the

travel time. They spread into a double line, Sentinel and Guide, Jim leading the

way from memory and Blair walking beside him easily - just as if this was

another weekend hike. The smells and sights of the jungle greeted Jim like old

friends - after all this had been the place where he re-emerged as a Sentinel

for a short time. Incacha had taught him to control things there and he'd

switched his senses off when he left.

Ebony's Guide Voice intruded on Jim's memories and he turned to see Sean

wavering on the path. The others broke formation to drink, ease their packs,

answer the call of nature and generally take a breather. Sean regained control

and sneaked a look around to see if anyone was laughing at his inexperience. No

one was - they'd all been there before. The youngster took a deep breath and

accepted the water Ebony offered.

"We'll walk another few hours and then set up camp," Jim told the others, "The

temple is another day away."

"Ok," Sean spoke up and Ebony smiled as she urged her partner to move into place

behind Blair and Jim.

"So how come you've been here before?" Sean asked and Jim told him about his

days as a Ranger in these jungles and then their return together in pursuit of

Alex. The words just tumbled out of him in a stream, unstoppable. He'd never

been able to explain this fully to Simon or even discuss it with Connor, and

he'd been reluctant to rake up old wounds with Blair. It was almost cathartic to

explain to another Sentinel and Guide why this Temple held such an uncertain

place in his heart.

A few more hours of walking and the sun went down. They found a good spot to

light a fire and make some dinner. Blair had made sure that what they brought

had the least amount of packaging possible, not wanting to ruin the area by

leaving rubbish behind. After dinner everyone was restless, and there was just

enough light from the full moon for the Guides to see. After a little discussion

they decided to push on. The Sentinels took hold of their Guides arm or hand to

prevent stumbles and Jim led them to the ridge, deciding to camp on the other

side. He sent Blair up first to prevent any falls and when Blair reached the top

he stood and stretched, his face to the stars, his head framed by the full moon.

For a moment Jim expected him to howl like a wolf - there was something lupine

about the stance and Blair's face. Then the Guide relaxed and moved ahead. A

glance behind showed Jim that the others had seen this too.

They reached the Temple late in the afternoon. Jim pulled Blair a little behind

him - uneasy about letting the Guide get too close.

"Why do I feel so nervous?" Ebony mumbled and Sean stepped in front of her,

shielding her from the temple. The others were doing similar things, almost

unconsciously.

"We're not supposed to be here - this is a place for Sentinels only," Rory's

voice was hushed and several of the Guides nodded.

"Discrimination!" Sarah complained uncomfortably and earned herself a breath of

laughter from the others. Blair put a hand on Jim's pack and urged him to take

it off. The taller man handed it over wordlessly and started walking up the

steps of the Temple.

"Stay dry Jim," Blair warned him as the other Sentinels walked up too. Their

packs had been left with their partners. Jim nodded with a little glance.

"We'll be right here," Blair added and moved away to sit near the entrance to

the clearing. The others moved to join him as a jaguar growled deep in the

Temple.

From a short distance away two men with binoculars cursed and headed back to

camp to get their guns.

It was well and truly dark by the time the Sentinels emerged from the Temple - a

little dazed, but all right. None of the Guides pressed for details. Whatever

had happened in there was private; they'd be told what was necessary. They led

the Sentinels back along the trail to a clearing and set up camp. A fire and

quiet meal was followed by half of the group immediately going to sleep and the

other half looking at each other in puzzlement.

"So does this mean we can go home tomorrow?" Tom asked quietly and Blair

shrugged, looking down at Jim. He was sleeping peacefully and deeply, for the

first time in a while.

"They'll tell us in the morning I guess. A word to the wise - don't wander off

tonight. This close to the Temple they'll be a little more skittish," Blair

remembered Jim's dream that his Guide had gone missing close to the Temple and

his reaction to that. The others nodded. There was obviously something on their

minds here, and Blair wondered what the fallout from Jim's tale was going to be.

He'd never heard Jim be so open about what had happened at the Temple.

"Blair - why did Alex try to kill you like that? Weren't you her Guide too?" Tom

asked now and Blair sighed. He'd given this a lot of thought since his death.

"I guess that I wasn't the right Guide. She was reacting to the Shaman side of

the deal; it disturbs Jim sometimes too. And she wanted Jim. I was in the way of

that. In the end she was just too far-gone for me to reach her and I guess she

killed me because of that. I didn't have what she needed, because I was so

connected to Jim," Blairs voice was a shrug. It wasn't much of an answer but it

was the best he could do.

The others nodded as if he'd just made sense and settled down to sleep. No one

noticed the fire flaring oddly when the gas hit it. The sickly smell that wafted

through the clearing went unremarked. The rough hands of strangers pulling them

away from the camp and supplies and dragging them away in all directions went

unfelt. By dawn all that remained of the camp was the dead fire and their

belongings.

Blair woke up and regretted it. His head spun, his eyes hurt, he was sick to the

stomach and lying on an anthill to boot. Blair rolled off the anthill and threw

up. This reminded him of the side effects to chlorophyll and he hoped that Jim

was handling it ok. Jim was nowhere nearby and Blair wiped his mouth before

staggering to his feet. The camp and the others were nowhere in sight, but Blair

recognized his location anyway. To the left there would be the river with its

waterfall that Jim had shown him. So to the right would be the Temple. Blair

headed to the right - figuring that everyone else would eventually head there

too. Jim definitely would and that was all that mattered. Once Blair and his

Sentinel were reunited they'd be able to find and help the others.

There was no one at the Temple when Blair got there and he sat on the steps near

the entrance - all the while wishing the stones would give him a break and not

lurch about like they were. There was a noise nearby and Blair tensed then hid

in the doorway. He watched two men - obviously their assailants - stroll out of

the jungle and stop at the bottom of the stairs anyway.

"I don't know," the one on the left said uneasily, "This place gives me the

creeps."

"Look, the oil company pays us good enough money for what we do, but don't you

want a bit extra?" the one on the right countered, "The way the natives avoid

this place it'll be months before anyone notices we've taken stuff from here.

There'll be no proof."

"Yeah," Left cheered up and Blair's blood boiled - he had to get the Sentinels

here now! This is what the Temple had called them for!

"Besides the company is clearing out the Topec today - you want to be around for

that?" Right added and started up the steps.

Blair flew into the darkness of the Temple - looking for a weapon that would

slow the men down so he could warn the Topec, gather the Sentinels. There was

nothing he could see immediately so Blair hurried back to the door and simply

shoved Right down the steps, into Left and crashing to the bottom. He used vines

from a convenient tree to tie the two men up and headed back into the Temple. He

sat in the doorway and tried to clear his mind. It was a long shot, but perhaps

he'd be able to call Jim through the link they shared. He couldn't wait any

longer for his friend to find him. The noise of insects and the smell of the

plants around him crowded in close to Blair, drowning him in their impact while

the stones beneath him leached all of the warmth from his body. Unable to

concentrate Blair shook his head and growled in frustration and stood up. This

was going to take extreme measures.

Once inside the Temple Blair skirted the main halls and headed for the chamber

where Alex had tried to overload Jim's senses. The pools were there, still and

deep, the same temperature as blood. Blair hesitated a moment, then climbed in,

allowing himself to float easily in the water. Things began to slide away and

Blair cleared his mind again, reaching for Jim.

The wolf found six of the jaguars one by one, sick and disoriented. It marked

their place and went looking for their partners. One by one it reunited the

horse, bear, owl, panther, hawk, and huge dog with their jaguar, watching them

heal each other from a distance.

The seventh jaguar was already moving, unwell but trying to heal. The wolf leapt

into its path and they collided, merging for a moment. The jaguar leached

strength from the wolf and purred as they parted.

The wolf howled, summoning the others and leading the pack towards the Topec

village - scattering the attackers as they went, ensuring the safety of it's

charges.

The battle was fierce, but monstrously unfair as the wolf tipped the pack off to

danger and threats.

The last of the foe were vanquished and the wolf gathered the pack for the last

time. As the pack watched the wolfs fur drenched and the wolf yelped, twisting

and disappearing.

Jim led the way to the Temple at a run, instincts leading him when reason

failed. He was vaguely aware of Topec warriors running with them. He ran up the

steps to the temple, skirting the lengths of knotted and cut vine at the base of

the steps and into the main hall. There was no one there - but splashing water

echoed through the corridors and Jim slid down them, running desperately.

Blair lay in one of the pools, two men holding him down under the water. The

Guide had been struggling, but now he shuddered and went still, sinking to the

bottom.

Jim's raw scream of anger scared Blair's assailants motionless for a moment -

long enough for him to get in striking distance. They fought savagely, knocking

Jim hard into the side of one of the pools before the others arrived and took

them down hard, the Topec warriors securing their two new prisoners with the

vines they'd only just cut off.

Jim leaned over the pool, grabbing at Blair and trying to pull the cumbersome

body up into his arms. Something in his ribs popped and his side flared in

agony. Blair slipped away as Jim cried out and Ebony grabbed him, cushioning his

fall with Sean. Rory and Tom pulled Blair out and Terry and Arthur took the limp

body to the floor starting heart massage and breathing in quick succession.

Jim moaned and reached for his Guide - their worst nightmare came to pass again.

Jim knew that this was what Blair had dreamed about on the plane - the old

nightmare of drowning and Sentinels connected. Sean tried to block his view of

the frantic efforts, but Ebony shook her head. She let Jim sit up and put her

arm firmly around him when he sagged.

Terry and Arthur kept the desperate cadence going as Jim put his fingers to

Blair's temple.

"Incacha - help us!" Jim pleaded, but there was no familiar shaman nearby.

"Blair - stay with me," Jim cried, "Breathe! Please Chief! Stay with me!"

The body under their hands heaved and spewed water, gasping for air and

struggling back to life. They propped him up and let him breathe. Terry ran her

fingers over Jim's ribs and nodded.

"Cracked, but not broken. I want you to hold him up while we make a stretcher -

we've got to get Blair to hospital immediately. Keep talking to him, see if you

can get him to wake up," she said, "Ebony and Sean will stay with you."

Jim pulled the precious body into his arms and ran his fingers over Blair's face

and chest, whispering to his Guide as he did. He could hear the water in Blair's

lungs and tried to keep the fear from his voice.

They walked all night and day to return to the vehicles, taking turns to carry

the stretcher. Jim took a corner at Blair's head the entire way and refused to

budge - so they doubled up on his corner to prevent accidents.

They drove at full speed to civilization, Jim holding Blair in his arms the

whole way. It took some doing to get him to surrender Blair to doctors at the

hospital - Terry had to pry his fingers open, while Rory whispered in his ear

about following Blair's heartbeat through the corridors.

After a few painful hours of separation Jim was led to Blair's bed and he sat as

close as he could, stroking the pale arm and whispering to him soothingly.

0o0o0

Captain Banks stood at the arrival gate and scanned anxiously for his friends.

He didn't know what had happened in Peru to hospitalize Sandburg with pneumonia

but he knew that something strange had been going on. He'd had a very strange

call from someone called Ebony, who'd explained that the Sentinels and Guides

had run into a hitch and they'd all be coming to Cascade when Blair was better.

Now Simon was waiting for their flight to arrive, very nervous at the thought of

having more than one Sentinel in his city. A crowd of people walked slowly down

the corridor, carrying bags and laughing at something.

Jim could be seen in the middle, supporting someone tenderly and Simon realised

it was Blair - an emaciated, pale man who was unsteady on his feet but laughing

too. The whole group was speaking in a language Simon didn't understand - Jim

included.

Jim spotted Simon and said something that made everyone look over and smile at

him. The body language snapped into place and Simon easily distinguished the

Sentinels from the Guides.

I'm going to regret this, Simon thought happily and moved forward to greet his

two friends and their companions.

End

Comments, criticism, suggestions? Please e-mail Shedoc.


	2. Cascade Con

Cascade ConDisclaimer: The Sentinel, Blair Sandburg, Jim Ellison, Simon Banks,

and all other characters are property of Paramount and Pet Fly. No copyright

infringement is intended, and no money has exchanged hands.

Authors note: serial killer alert - this guy is NOT nice.

Rating: R

Cascade Con

by Shedoc

0o0o0

Their first day at home started badly. Perhaps if they'd stayed in Peru a little

longer Jim wouldn't have reacted the way he did. But Blair had been eager to put

some distance between them and the Temple, and Jim had been too relieved to have

Blair alive and almost well to put up much of an argument.

First night home from Peru and Jim was glad to just tuck Blair into bed and then

go up to his own. He slept through dreamlessly and woke at his usual time, well

rested and content. As he usually did first thing when waking, Jim extended his

hearing to listen to his Guide sleeping.

Blair was wheezing for breath. As Jim listened he muffled a cough. Jim was out

of bed and running. Blair called something to Jim, but Jim didn't hear - he was

so focussed on the sounds of Blairs breathing he was almost zoned. He bundled

his feverish Guide up in blankets and half carried his struggling Guide out to

the car - driving like a bat out of hell to the hospital. Again he half carried

a now resigned Blair into the emergency room and watched the doctor and nurses

hurry Blair away for treatment.

Doctor Anne Mallory asked Jim to come into the treatment cubicle ten minutes

later and made Jim sit in behind Blair on the treatment table. The Sentinel had

wrapped his arms around Blair and prepared for the worst - her manner was so

serious and concerned that Jim was sure the pneumonia had flared up again.

Memories of waiting in the ICU with Blair flared up for a moment and Jim

shivered before focussing on the doctor again.

Blair had a minor cold. He'd caught it on the plane. He was going to take some

very strong antibiotics to prevent the cold from complicating the almost gone

pneumonia. He was to take liquids and rest for the next twenty-four hours. Then

he could return to his normal activities provided he felt able for it.

Blair walked back to the truck and into the loft wrapped in his blanket,

thinking about Peru. Jim was waiting for an explosion of anger - totally

justified. Nothing. Blair had a shower and got dressed, then made some tea and

sat down on the couch to go through the mail. Jim went grocery shopping and then

did the laundry in a kind of cringing silence.

By late afternoon Blair had folded away their clothes and put his away, then

carried Jim's upstairs. He was coming back down and stopped on the bottom step

when Jim came to stand in front of him, standing in a cringing attitude. Blair

put his hands out and gathered Jim in close - using the height the step gave him

to tuck Jim's face into his neck and cradle Jim against his body.

Jim resisted for a moment and then collapsed into the embrace. Blair stood

stolidly; supporting them both as Jim wept quietly into his partner's neck.

Jim's hands grabbed fistfuls of Blair's shirt, the knotted fists tucked along

Blair's spine. Blair almost wept too - the release that Jim needed was finally

here - now his friend could move on from the horrors of the temple and hospital

in Peru. Jim cried Blair's name and Blair tightened his embrace, moving his hand

to caress the back of Jim's head, his lips against Jim's hair.

"I'm here partner, it's ok. I'm right here, Jim," Blair whispered the words over

and over in endless variations. The crying gave way to heart wrenching sobs - so

frenetic that Blair's throat ached in sympathy. He closed his eyes and calmed

his breathing as best he could. The sobs were slowing now, quieting. Jim

breathed raggedly against Blair's neck as the litany of comfort continued - the

soft whispers filling the loft. The last of the gasps faded and Jim breathed

quietly, luxuriating in the contact with his partner - Blair's smell enveloped

him as his arms did. The steady sound of his heartbeat pulsed with the whispered

words of comfort. Jim could see the pulse in Blair's neck beating steadily. He

could taste the skin that rested against his lips.

The whispers died away as Jim's fists loosened their grip. The partners held

each other close and breathed together. There was a knock at the door and Blair

laughed, wheezed once and then coughed.

"Go wash your face, Jim," the Guide commanded and gave the Sentinel a gentle

push in the right direction before heading to the door. Simon Banks stood there

a little uncertainly and Blair remembered he'd invited his commanding officer to

dinner at the airport.

"Hey, Simon, come on in," Blair smiled and took the older mans coat. Jim emerged

from the bathroom - the worst of the damage repaired.

"Hey Blair. How are you feeling tonight?" Simon asked as Blair hung up the coat.

"Much better for a quiet day at home," Blair smiled, and then coughed, turning

to cover his mouth.

"Go sit down - I don't want you coughing on our dinner," Jim smiled as he fished

out a couple of beers and a fruit juice. Blair took his juice to the couch and

switched the sound on the TV down a notch. Simon came and sat with him while Jim

prepared dinner. It didn't take a detective to figure that Blair was unwell and

Jim upset, the redness of Jim's eyes spoke eloquently of that.

Dinner was a stir-fry and ice cream for dessert. Blair and Simon did most of the

talking. Blair started to clean up the kitchen, but was shooed out by Jim.

During the resulting argument Simon started the washing up, amused at their

antics. That started another argument and then one of the famous pillow fights

that seemed to be Jim's way of solving any argument he was losing to Blair that

wasn't a matter of life or death. Simon only participated because he kept

getting targeted.

In the end Jim was laughing so hard Blair and Simon managed to pin him to the

floor and pummel him pretty hard. Blair was laughing too, and had to break away

to avoid coughing on them.

"That sounds healthy," Simon frowned, letting his worry show. This was the

reason for Jim's tension - or at least part of it. Blair sat back and regained

his breath.

"The doctor says it's ok," he told Simon as the Captain got off his detective,

"We went this morning and got some antibiotics. I'm going to be fine."

"But you had pneumonia again," Simon pressed, not wanting to destroy the mood

but needing to know. He'd been terrified that Blair would die in Peru and they'd

lose Jim to the jungle. The whole team in Major Crimes had freaked out when

they'd heard the reason Blair and Jim were coming home later than expected.

Simon had been forced to turn down several leave applications from people

intending to go to Peru. The department couldn't afford to lose anyone at the

moment, especially with this new case…

"Let's tidy this up a bit and I'll tell you everything," Blair suggested and

began picking up the sofa cushions. They did this in silence, and then Blair sat

next to Jim on the sofa and told Simon about Peru - or at least most of it. The

wolf vision was left out - Simon was uneasy enough with the Shaman side of Blair

- and the drowning was described in a terse sentence that had Jim twitching in

remembrance. Blair put a hand on Jim's and smiled at his roommate. It warmed

Simon's heart to see them sitting side by side, relaxing at the touch of each

other's hands. This had started some pretty weird rumors about his best team,

but Simon knew better. A roommate, soul mates, life mates - yes. Lovers - no.

"I woke up in the hospital with Jim sitting next to me as always," Blair rolled

his eyes, trying to lighten the expression on Simon's face. This was hurting the

Captain too much, "I got speech number twelve - I guess Jim was pretty tired -

and a week later they let me out."

"Number twelve," Simon seized on the distraction gratefully, "Is that the

'you'll be ok' speech or the ''what were you thinking' speech?"

"The 'you'll be ok' speech - but with the 'sorry I didn't get there' guilt trip

added," Blair replied, ignoring Jim's growl.

"Oh, the one where he apologizes for being a mere mortal without superpowers and

psychic abilities," Simon nodded, hiding a grin as Jim became more animated,

drawn out of his memories by their teasing, "Did he get the standard response?"

"Yep, speech number two," Blair agreed, "'Cause I was still on oxygen - it has

the advantage of brevity and I can guilt him into stop feeling guilty."

"Uh huh," Simon leaned back a little, "That one always reminds me of the verbal

equivalent of a slap upside the head and a really nasty look."

"It's supposed too," Blair nodded, "I only use it when I can't reach him

anyway."

"I am still here, you know," Jim reminded them and received two perfectly

matched looks of astonishment. He chuckled at them and Simon broke first, a huge

grin splitting his face. Damn, it was good to have them back.

0o0o0

The next morning Jim and Blair went to meet the others at the hotel. Blair was

glad he'd arranged at the airport for everyone to take a day to recover and

acclimatize. From the looks of his charges - and they were his charges, just as

he was their Shaman - the time had been well spent processing. They looked

better - fatigue was gone and the Sentinels were grounded. Jim was a little

twitchy - after all they were in his territory now, but Blair had talked him

through it over breakfast and the other Guides had already been briefed on the

plane. Things would be ok.

Blair wasn't too sure why they'd all come to Cascade. A small part of him said

the others wanted to make sure he was ok, but he'd dismissed that as egotistical

and decided that they didn't want to break up just as they were starting to get

used to the idea that others went through the same things they did.

They spent the first day doing tourist things - taking walks through the streets

and looking at the sights. The Cascade markets were open and the group spent the

afternoon there, stocking up on some much needed travel supplies and buying a

few frivolous items too. Only four of the group spoke English, and were fairly

busy translating for the others who could only communicate to the others in the

language of the Sentinels.

None of them gave a second thought to the fact that they all spoke a common

language - Blair thought vaguely it might be a genetic language, but didn't

dwell on it too much. The odds that seven Sentinels and seven Guides from widely

different countries had all learned a second common language were very small.

Obviously the gods that looked after Sentinels had covered all the bases,

imprinting a language in them that could be called upon in circumstances such as

these - hence the genetic language theory.

They went back to the loft for dinner, with Blair and Jim busy in the kitchen

preparing lasagna and garlic bread - their specialty. Just as it slipped into

the oven someone knocked at the door and Sarah opened it. Brown, Rafe, Taggert,

and half the bullpen stood in the doorway, laden with various take out bags and

beverages.

The looks on their faces were disappointed when they realised that Jim and Blair

had guests - but Sarah welcomed them in happily and Jim started collecting

coats. Their friends had come to see Blair - to reassure them that he was ok

after all they'd heard. Blair had indicated to Jim to let everyone mix - maybe

the detectives would be able to take some of the heat off Blair as the slightly

over protective group of Sentinels and Guides tensed up each time he coughed.

Henri joined Jim in the kitchen quietly as Blair introduced everyone around out

in the main area,

"Hey, Jim, who are these people?" Henri kept his voice to Sentinel levels only,

something Blair had taught them to do.

Jim gave what the Major Crimes crew privately called 'evil grin number three'

and patted Henri on the shoulder.

"Welcome to your worst nightmare, H.," he said and Henri looked out into the

room. A young man with dark spiky hair laughed and looked back at him. A red

head asked him what Jim had said and the scene clicked for Henri - seven of the

people out there were Guides and six were Sentinels. From the look on Taggerts

face he'd recognized it too.

"Trust me, Jim - that's not my worst nightmare," Henri replied and clapped Jim

on the shoulder before heading over to be introduced, leaving a stunned

co-worker behind him. Jim wondered why he'd never realised that his Sentinel

abilities were accepted as part of him, not in addition to him. He suspected

that his Guide had a lot to do with that.

Dinner turned into a buffet. Chairs were spread around in a circle and when they

ran out people sat on the floor. Blair was put into the yellow armchair by the

windows and mothered to within an inch of his life by his friends. He put up

with it as gracefully as he could, even played up to it a bit - making it

obvious that they'd all better get it out of their system now. As soon as they

returned to work he wasn't going to take any more and they all knew it.

Despite the language barriers the new comers were accepted as they were. Blair

watched with interest as Taggert teased the shy Ebony into giggles with the

pantomime that he was using to communicate. Sean was laughing too on the other

side of the room as Jim told him the story connected to the drink coaster that

was sitting propped up against the mantelpiece. Brown and Rafe were playing

cards with Terry and Rory - and winning by the look on Terry's face. The TV was

on and Sarah was watching the game with Denton and Keller while her Sentinel

read one of Blair's books. Everyone else was out on the balcony, drinking beer

and pointing at the stars - swapping names for them at a guess since they didn't

share enough language for small talk. Blair just sat and smiled at the people

around him glad they could just hang out together - no one threatening the city

or Jim. He smiled up at his Sentinel and then grimaced at the orange juice

Taggert was holding out to him.

"Hey Jim, I thought you lived with the Chopec in Peru," Taggert ignored the

grimace and put the glass in Blair's hand.

"That's right," Jim leaned against the window, and folded his arms.

"But Blair said the Topec were under attack, who are they?" Taggert stuck his

hands in his pocket and watched Blair sip the juice.

"The Topec lands border on the Chopec. The oil company guessed the Chopec would

be too clued in after the last attempt to pump that oil field, so they decided

to take on the Topec instead," Jim frowned. Blair swallowed his mouthful and

took over the explanation.

"They were going to take the women and children from the village and force the

men to fight the Chopec. In the ensuing war they'd be too distracted to notice

the oil field being pumped. And no one would be the wiser - a quick profit made

at the expense of two living cultures," Blair's voice was angry and Jim shifted

against the window. The curly haired man sent a soothing smile to his partner

and took another mouthful of juice. Taggert let the subject go - he had no wish

to rake over old wounds with these two.

Blair's coughing finally broke up the party. Taggert and the others ushered the

visitors out so Jim could get his friend to bed and rest. Taggert had a feeling

that now Jim and Blair were back in Cascade the Mayor and the Commissioner would

pressure Simon into putting them back to work on the latest psycho case that had

Major Crimes so stumped. And with Blair being sick and all, that was a fight no

one wanted to witness.

0o0o0

Simon Banks winced at the yelling that was coming out of the office in front of

him and knocked loudly. He took the sudden silence as permission to enter and

glared at the Commissioner.

"Good morning, sir. I thought I was going to be the one who requested Detective

Ellison's return to work," Simon let the Commissioner know just how mad he was.

The Commissioner nodded, letting Simon know how mad he was.

"I thought it would be better if I made the request myself - after all it was my

initiative," the Commissioner growled, "We need you on this, Ellison. I realize

now that Detective Sandburg is too ill to work as yet, but I'd like you to cut

your leave time short."

"I am present in the room, you know," Blair's annoyed voice cut across any

retort Jim might have made and effectively shut him up. He stood and Simon was

reminded how thin and pale the pneumonia had left him, "The doctor has said I

may return to normal activity when I feel fit for it. I do. From the rumors I've

heard in the press today we've got a real live one on our hands - and as you

know Commissioner the clues he's been leaving are within my area of expertise.

There will be no further discussion on the matter. If and when we need the leave

time at the end of this case I expect there will be no obstacles to our securing

it. I'm sure you have a busy schedule, Commissioner so with your permission

we'll head for the office. I'm sure Captain Banks and the rest of our team can

bring us up to speed."

Looking at the Anthropologist turned Detective Simon was also reminded how no

one got in Blair's way once he made his mind up to do something. It had been

that way when he'd first met Jim, when he'd first applied for observer status at

the precinct, when he'd come back after Lash, when he'd gone after the rogue

Sentinel and she'd killed him, when he'd gone for his Doctorate after the press

sensation had died down. Simon had stood in his way once or twice and been put

down hard for it each time - learning finally that Blair's determination was an

unstoppable force of nature. From the expression on the Commissioners face it

looked like he'd gotten a glimpse of that too. They were dismissed in record

time.

Jim brooded all the way to the Major Crimes bull pen - and the sight of his

clenched jaw told everyone that one of the famous Ellison/Sandburg shouting

matches was about to begin. Simon got a lot of sympathetic looks as he dragged

the two into his office. The shouting went on for about five minutes before it

was interrupted by a hacking cough that had Simon running for water and Jim

holding his friends' arm as Blair braced himself upright on the corner of

Simon's desk. Seeing the rest of the team in the room he shook Jim off and

headed for the conference table.

"Now that's over, you can bring us up to speed," Blair said and sat down. He

accepted the water Simon handed him and sipped at it, controlling his breathing

as he waited for everyone to realize he'd won the battle, but Jim hadn't lost

the war. Simon growled and gestured everyone into chairs or to get files.

"About three weeks ago a victim was discovered autopsied in his own house. The

man was laid on his back on the dining room table and the killer had … written

on the wall in his blood. A set of symbols, carefully arranged and delineated,"

Simon kicked the briefing off, "We haven't had much luck with isolating the

language as yet and the Commissioner is reluctant to call in outside help.

Rainier U isn't too co operative these days anyway."

No one glanced in Blair's direction, knowing that the University's bad attitude

stemmed from the example he'd set and several TA's had followed. Cascade PD was

becoming known as observer central. Brown and Rafe handed copies of the files

over to Jim and Blair - making sure that Blair got the one missing photos of the

victims. Bad enough he was working against Ellison's wishes - if he was exposed

to the ugliness of the crime scenes on the first day Jim would commit murder

against several of his colleagues.

"How many victims have there been?"

"A total of three - one a week. And we're about due for a fourth," Brown

admitted heavily. Blair realised that he'd have to tread softly on this one, the

team at Major Crimes were hurting and the best way to alleviate that pain was to

let them go with their instincts - the mother hen instincts that Jim had woken

in everyone would be working full time now.

"Are the messages the same at each scene?" Blair asked now, digging through his

censored report for the pictures.

"We're not sure - there are some changes but since we don't know what language

it is we don't know if the differences are spelling mistakes or deliberate

changes. They're minimal," Rafe spoke up, "It looks like the guy is using some

kind of paint brush - probably one you can buy in stores everywhere. He's not

leaving any hair or fibre traces behind either."

"Serena thinks he's wearing a bunny suit like hers - and that would make sense

'cause all the guy would have to do is take it off after and he'd be blood

free," Taggert grimaced, "The scene is usually very messy."

"Any sign of forced entry?" Jim asked now and the group relaxed a little at the

calm tone of voice.

"None - the victim let him in each time," Taggert replied, "And he locks up when

leaving."

"Any reason we think it's a he - not a she?" Blair frowned. Taggert nodded and

pointed to Jim's folder.

"A woman would have to be pretty strong to follow this MO. The victims are all

drugged to sleep, then washed in the bathroom. Then carried - not dragged - to

the table where the autopsy is performed. The victims fight the drugging - he

uses chloral hydrate in concentrated liquid form. By the time the victim's on

the table they're three quarters of the way to overdose," Taggert sat back with

a frown. Blair nodded - relieved the victims felt no additional pain. At that

level of dosage the drugs usual affects would also be different - they'd have no

idea what was happening to them. Unlike the victims of David Lash … Blair

frowned and concentrated on the present. Good thing Jim was too upset to focus

properly at the moment.

"No fibres or fingerprints," Jim mused, "So are we looking at a psycho forensics

expert?"

"Has Serena got an alibi?" Blair piped up innocently and won himself some smiles

and chuckles. Just what he'd been aiming for.

"Yep," Simon confirmed and Blair looked down at the pictures in his folder while

the team did a detailed walk through each crime scene. The victims - two men and

a woman - had all been fairly well off and single. Hired help discovered them

all.

"Maybe this guy is working for the cleaning company," Blair mused aloud and all

eyes hit him.

"What?" Simon blurted, and Blair looked up. There was no hostility in the looks

he was getting, even though the team had probably already thought of this.

"The victims all hired someone to clean for them. If you were cleaning someone's

house then you would be in a prime place to learn all about his or her habits.

Are the victims all using the same cleaning company?"

"No," Brown shook his head, "Two were, one wasn't."

Blair sighed and nodded. That earned him some more smiles and he smiled back.

Simon broke the meeting up then; asking everyone their plans for the case while

Blair stared some more at the writing on the wall.

"Sandburg!" from the irritation in Simon's voice this wasn't the first time he'd

asked, "What are you doing today?"

"I'll work on these until lunch," Blair held up the photos, "And I'll take them

home with me to look at tonight."

"You only on half days?" Rafe asked and Blair nodded immediately. The last of

the tension drained out of Jim.

"But I reserve the right to stretch my time if I have to," Blair warned his

partner who nodded. The rest of the team grinned, recognizing a peace treaty

when they saw one. The meeting broke up and Simon headed out of his office too -

walking towards the men's room, though everyone knew he was just giving Jim and

Blair some space.

"Don't start," Blair said as soon as the door closed, "I can see which way the

wind is blowing in here - they don't need any more stress. Besides if I end up

in hospital we'll really be in the poop. So I'll work half days here and spend

time with the others. You just make damn sure I'm with you in the field. With

other Sentinels in your territory you'll be less likely to listen to a second

Guide."

"Deal," Jim nodded, accepting the inevitable, "Just promise me you won't waste

energy pretending more health than you have. Be sick, Blair, so you can get

better."

"Promise," Blair nodded, and gathered his files, "I'll want to see the victim

photos after I've had a good look at the writing - and I'm coming with you to

the next crime scene so deal with it now."

"I'll get some wood," Jim nodded and suppressed a grin at the puzzled look on

Blair's face, "So I can build a bridge to get over it."

Blair laughed until he coughed, shot Jim a look and headed for his desk.

0o0o0

Blair took his charges up to the lookout that gave a great view of the city and

sat them all around the place. He wanted them to absorb the city so they weren't

fighting the stimuli of their senses. If they could relax then Jim would also

calm down a bit.

He led them through the city, pointing out the sights and having the Sentinels

tag additional sounds and smells to them while the Guides learned the layout of

the place a little. Then Blair had them all process for a while, and leaned

against the rail to watch.

Terry sat on Rory's lap and he stroked her back while he whispered to her. Sarah

and Denton faced each other and held hands. Sean sat in front of Ebony and she

held him close while she whispered in his ear. Arthur and Tom stood much as

Blair and Jim used to, close without touching. Lee stroked the back of Sue's

hand while he spoke and Charlie had a hand on Emmy's leg. Guide Voice filled the

air and Blair wished Jim could be here to see that all Sentinels loved that tone

of voice. There was no one else around and Blair would have let things go on

indefinitely, but he coughed hard once and was ushered away to the cars that

everyone had hired at the airport.

Blair took everyone to the Museum of Fine Art and they spent the rest of the

afternoon wandering through the exhibits. The museum was warm and not too busy

so Blair had them exercise their senses in a sedate game of hide and seek. No

one zoned and Sean's pride was uplifting to them all when he found Ebony four

galleries away. The group headed back to the loft for dinner and Jim.

Blair issued new orders - mainly that all Sentinels should be sharing a room

with their Guide by now - and sent everyone out early. Doubtless they would

party on somewhere - Blair was too tired to worry about them. Jim had written

their names and phone numbers onto twelve pieces of paper on the plane and

everyone carried one in case of emergencies.

Jim sat close to his partner and watched the game while Blair went through the

pictures of the writing again. When the group left both men had changed into

their usual sleep wear and Jim had foisted tea and honey on his partner in an

effort to soothe the coughing. It seemed to be working. Blair had stopped

coughing and his breathing evened out a little. As the game ended Blair packed

up the notes he'd been making and leaned into Jim tiredly. Jim had been told all

about the afternoon's activities and was glad the group was looking out for his

friend.

"Tired, huh?" Jim smiled at the blue eyes that searched for his and Blair

nodded. He leaned harder against Jim, letting his body become loose.

"Well, you can't sleep here, Chief. Get up and go to bed," Jim ordered and Blair

nodded again, not moving. Jim sighed at him and slipped an arm around the

smaller man. Blair smiled slowly.

"The things I do for you," he grumbled and got up, pulling Blair with him. He

maneuvered his friend past the table and towards the French doors Jim had hung

up. Jim stripped the blankets back and helped Blair into bed, tucking him in and

switching off the light.

"G'night, Jim," Blair's voice was small, but Jim heard it easily. He recognized

the need that Blair had just fulfilled and shook his head. The Sentinel must

protect the Guide.

"G'night, Blair," Jim smiled and went to turn off the rest of the lights.

0o0o0

Their days slipped into a pattern. Blair would go to the station in the morning

and disappear into the interrogation room he'd appropriated to work on the

message that was left behind. The room was a maelstrom of books, papers, files

and photos. He'd work until lunch, using his cell phone to call the others to

check on details and hunches. Jim would meet with the group for lunch and hand

Blair over into their keeping until he could meet them for dinner. Each night

Jim and Blair would spend quiet time together, and Blair would let Jim fuss a

little over his cold.

The team at Major Crimes noticed that Jim was virtually desk bound and realised

the presence of the group was making things difficult for the Sentinel - hence

his grounding. Remembering all too clearly the last time a Sentinel had come to

Cascade they gave Jim's things a wide berth and did their best not to infringe

on Jim's personal space.

Blair was pulled aside by everyone at one stage or another and had to explain

that there wouldn't be a need for him to move in with anyone else, that Jim had

invited the others in and was ok with it, that there wouldn't be a repeat of

Alex Barnes. It didn't help Jim's tension level knowing that all this was going

on. The lack of progress on the case was adding another burden to their cares.

Blair was still shaking off the cold and pneumonia, and apt to tire easily. The

Mayor was getting antsy, as was the Commissioner.

Then the fourth body was found.

She was an interior decorator and her house looked like it came straight out of

a 'Home Beautiful' catalogue. Everything was modern, sleek and perfectly placed

for maximum effect. It totally lacked personality. Each room in the house went

with a different colour scheme, theme and style. The dining room was colonial

wood and she lay on her back under a brass ranch lamp. Blood had soaked into the

hardwood floor and chairs. Her internal organs had been flung onto the sideboard

against one wall - from a distance. The back wall was covered in the writing

that the detectives had come to expect.

"Jim," Blair said as he stood behind his partner, "I want you to take a look at

the incisions on the body. We know the killer cut an artery, what I want you to

do is see if he cut first to collect the blood and then again to disguise the

first cut."

"With all the blood on the floor I'd say that's unlikely, Sandburg," Jim

commented, hearing the nervous quaver in his partner's voice. Blair just put his

hand on Jim's back and waited for the other to start breathing properly. Jim

reflected how well his Guide knew him and sighed out, then stepped closer to

begin his inspection. The ME had taken all the photos they needed, and forensics

was waiting out in the hall. Over the years it had become easier to just let Jim

and Blair into the crime scene first. Some time ago Blair had gone down to

forensics and asked to be tutored in evidence collection procedures. The team

had made up a pack of things for the anthropologist to carry - gloves, tweezers

and collection bags mainly - and the partners would process the scene in their

own way. They very rarely missed anything of importance, and properly informed

the forensics team what they had found. The 'Sandburg packs' were slowly being

distributed to the patrol cars in an effort to preserve crime scenes in danger

of being destroyed before forensics could arrive.

"There," Jim pointed, and Blair nodded without looking. Not that Jim expected

him to look - it was second nature for a person to point out what they saw to

others.

"Well done," he complimented his partner and then began going through the other

senses to gather as much information as possible. Blair examined the back wall

thoroughly and took a few notes.

"Can you tell anything from the brush marks?" Blair asked Jim, who grimaced and

looked away.

"Just that the guy's using blood, not paint," his voice was pained and Blair

patted his arm in sympathy.

"Sorry, big guy. Guess I forgot about that," Blair said gently, "C'mon, let's

go."

They headed out. On the front porch they pulled the cotton overshoes off

carefully - the victim's blood had been tacky and no matter how careful they'd

been occasional blood specks was inevitable. Simon met them out at the mailbox.

"Anything new?" he asked and Jim shook his head.

"There's no scent that shouldn't be there. Just like before the guy tracked

blood back to the bathroom where he changed - or whatever - before locking the

house and leaving. No hair or other fibres left behind - even where he changed,"

Jim growled and Blair pursed his lips in echoed frustration.

"Means he's got a large bag full of gear," Blair mused, "He'd have to take a lot

of gear along - a bowl to carry the blood, whatever cutting materials he used,

something to clean himself up with and of course changes of clothes. He'd also

need to have a lot of plastic sheeting and stuff to catch fibres when he

changed."

"Hence nothing for us to work with," Simon sighed gustily and shoved his hands

in his pockets, glaring at the house in irritation. Blair nodded and turned to

look at the yard.

"Who found her?" he asked absently. Simon glanced down at him, but couldn't see

the other man's face.

"The cleaner - like all the others," he replied, "A different company again.

I've got Brown checking to see if there's any links - you know, sub-contractors

or something."

"Hmm," Blair headed off. Jim and Simon exchanged looks and took a couple of

steps to follow, but Blair waved them off absently. Jim shrugged and Simon

frowned, sighing in annoyance.

"What?" he asked as Blair returned. Blair shook his head and shrugged.

"I'll let you know when I figure it out - just gotta shake it into my

forebrain," Blair sighed. Jim put his hands on Blair's shoulders.

"Hey, Simon grab hold," Jim grinned and Blair laughed back, ducking away. Simon

pulled his hands out of his pockets and Blair dodged, hurrying for the truck and

locking himself in. The early morning sunshine made the windows nearly opaque,

but Simon had no doubt Blair was laughing. Jim was laughing too, until a cough

sounded from the truck.

"He's not getting much better," Simon frowned, "Is he still taking the

medication?"

"Yeah," Jim replied, unlocking the truck door to reveal a breathless detective.

Jim fished a bottle of water out of Blair's pack and uncapped it - handing it to

him. Blair sipped obediently and leaned back into the seat.

"I'm ok, Simon," Blair's voice was hoarse, "Its going to take a little while is

all."

"I'd feel better if you gained some weight and colour," Simon replied, reaching

into the truck to brush Blair's shoulder, "So would the rest of the team."

"Stop it," Jim said sharply, "Don't try to guilt him into getting better

quickly. He's sick - he shouldn't be pretending otherwise."

"Jim," Simon protested softly, and felt Blair's hand cover his gently. He looked

at the other half of his best team and saw understanding there.

"Enough, Enquiri," Blair's voice was sharp, and Jim shut up in a hurry, "Simon's

right - I'd feel better too if I put on weight and gained some colour."

Jim nodded, reminding Simon of a soldier who'd just been disciplined. An ominous

feeling settled over the police captain as he realised the Sentinel in Jim was

slowly taking over from the detective. He glanced at Blair, who was still

touching his hand and Blair smiled in reassurance. Blair's voice softened.

"We need you focussed, Jim. Drive me back to the station so I can get back to

the translations and check a few things out. Simon, do you need anything else

from us?"

"No," Simon squeezed the shoulder under his hand and stepped back, "I'll see you

both there."

He watched the truck pull away with a feeling of foreboding.

0o0o0

Blair cracked the first message that afternoon. It was an old script, and fairly

obscure. Others had long absorbed the culture that used it and it was the

similarities that had made things so difficult. He showed the translated text to

Simon and then the rest of the team.

"It's a question," Blair explained, "Whoever's doing this is looking for the

answer to a question - and they think that by sacrificing their victim they'll

find an answer. The autopsy is probably to disguise their real motive."

Everyone looked at the evidence he'd stacked up to support his claims. As usual

his research was impeccable.

"So, what's the question?" Simon asked. Blair bit his lip and sighed.

"It has many layers, but it all boils down to the same theme: 'why me'," he

explained, "The person we're looking for has had something nasty happen to them

- something life altering and they want to know why. This person has no one to

support them in their grief and probably has a minimum wage job that frustrates

their choices in life. The victims are wealthy and successful and therefore the

ideal offering to the gods."

"So it could be the cleaners?" Taggert spoke up, frowning. How had they missed

that?

"No, you've already checked that out," Blair responded, "You wouldn't have

missed that, I'm sure of it."

The vote of confidence warmed the detectives at the table and Simon too. Blair

had more schooling than most of them, though they'd all gone to college before

joining the PD. The idea that a Doctor respected their intelligence so much was

a boost never the less. Simon was proud that Blair had picked up on the need for

affirmation and responded so well.

"We need to look for someone else - maintenance worker, delivery people,

property managers, anyone that might be on minimum wage and recognized enough to

gain access to the house without forcing it," Simon spoke up and started

assigning tasks. Blair promised to start on the other messages - now he had a

place to start it would take less time. Jim followed Blair into the

interrogation room and slumped into the spare chair.

"I'm sorry about this morning," Jim sighed, "I've already apologized to Simon. I

don't know what came over me."

"You're frustrated, worried, territorial and tired," Blair replied, putting his

book aside. Jim's mouth quirked in a wry half smile.

"Thanks for clearing that up for me," his voice was dry and Blair smiled - the

one that lit his whole face and made the recipient feel like they'd just had

twelve hours of peaceful sleep and a good meal. Jim smiled back.

"I want you to take my half day today - go hang out with the group for a while.

Show them the botanical gardens or something - you need the contact with nature

anyway and if you spend another afternoon at that desk you'll probably go postal

on us. Now I know where to start I want to get as much done as possible - maybe

the questions can give us the clue we need," Blair put a hand out, which Jim

grasped gratefully. As always the contact reaffirmed their commitment to each

other and Jim felt re-energized by it.

"What about Simon?" he offered a token protest and Blair smiled.

"I cleared it with him before we called the staff meeting," he replied serenely

and grinned at the look he got.

0o0o0

The messages were a progression. The theme remained the same, but the question

became refined - more complex and specific. Blair added to his profile of the

killer: someone who had lost a spouse or de facto to a long illness or accident.

Brown and Rafe started going through the paper files - looking for anyone that

would match the profile.

"The problem is that he's building up to a big finale," Blair sighed and sipped

the water Jim kept on hand in their desks and Blair's pack.

"How big a finale?" Simon growled and Blair shook his head.

"I don't know - it will probably involve multiple victims, though," the

detective ran his hand over his hair and sighed again, then coughed. Simon

frowned.

"That's it. I want the two of you to go home today - Blair, you're tired and

Jim…" he shook his head, "We can't do anything if you two cave on me and the

rest of the team is under enough stress without having to carry you two home to

bed. So please, go home and get some rest today. Visit with the others if you

like, but go and rest."

"Ok," Jim stood, much to Blair's astonishment, "You're right, Captain. Blair -

we're no good to anyone as we are."

Blair looked from one to the other. He dropped his head in resignation and

neatly shuffled his papers into order and put them away and got up slowly.

"Thanks, Simon," Blair replied, "Truth told, we are tired."

"You just take care of each other," Simon nodded, "I'll see you tomorrow."

They walked out quietly, nodding to the team. Simon had pulled the 'take some

time' routine with the others too - which made it easier to persuade Jim to take

the time, and easier for Jim to bully Blair into it. Simon had put it to his

team that Ellison and Sandburg would be more likely to take the time if the

others had - and they'd know if anyone turned it down. A devious mind and shrewd

intellect - that's why Simon was the Captain.

0o0o0

Blair and Jim were eating dinner in the park with the other Sentinels and Guides

when the call came in. The psycho had struck again - but this time in a

warehouse. This time he'd slaughtered animals as well as a human victim and

painted the message on the floor. A guard who'd noticed an open door had

discovered the mess.

The Sentinels accompanies Jim and Blair to the scene. They got there before the

ME did, and even before the rest of Major Crimes. Blair took one peep at the

scene and then turned. He organized the patrolmen to establish a perimeter and

then walked past his colleagues to have sharp words with the ME and forensics

crew.

"What's he saying?" Simon asked Jim who shook his head.

"He gave me the Look, Simon - the one where they'll never find the body if I

listen in on his conversation there," Jim replied and Simon sighed in

resignation. Blair nodded to the people he was speaking to, and headed back to

the group. Simon looked at him uneasily - there was an aura to Blair that Simon

equated with the Shaman side of things. The side that made Simon most

uncomfortable because it meant that things were happening that Simon couldn't

control. Blair stood beside Jim, between his colleagues and his charges and drew

their attention with a quiet word.

He began to speak the common language of the Sentinels and Guides and Jim

translated it to English in a quiet voice, his face almost trance-like in its

appearance. Simon shivered at the sight, as did several of his men. Once Blair

had everyone's attention he began to simply issue instructions.

"We're going to process this differently today. Sean and Ebony, I want you to

walk the grid outside the warehouse. I want to know who's been here and where

they went. Don't look at the building or inside, just outside. Track down

everyone. Any evidence you find must be collected correctly - Joel you'll do

that. Just follow procedure once Sean and Ebony show you what they've found.

These are my children, Joel - just three months old. I'm counting on you to keep

them safe and to back Ebony up. Denton, I want you to check the front and left

side of the building - that includes the fire escape on that side. I want to

know what's there, who put it there and how long ago that happened. Who's been

inside and how often? Once you're done start on the roof. Brown - you'll take

them. Emmy I want you to the same for the back and right side - Rafe will look

after you. Arthur and Sue - once Denton's cleared the fire escape take the third

floor and catalogue it - I want to know who's been there and when. Detective

Parker will watch over you. Charlie and Lee take the second floor and do the

same. Detective Benson will accompany you. Terry and Rory - you're the closest I

have to veterinarians here - I want you to examine the animals. Captain Banks

will guide you through the police procedures. Jim, you're with me. Remember, we

can't convict if you contaminate the evidence, so don't touch anything - let the

professionals with you gather what you find. I'll give you all four hours to

work, and then I want you back here with your findings. The ME and forensics

team will send someone along to help out, but the detectives are in charge -

remember that."

Blair nodded beyond the group he had gathered together and the forensics team

headed over with kits for everyone as well as cameras. Blair turned, touched

Jim's arm and led the way inside.

0o0o0

By dawn everyone was still working. They had returned to the bullpen and

continued working the Sentinel and Guides' findings. The victim had been taken

at home and washed, as was the usual MO. Then he had been transported to the

site for the killing. The blood of the animals was liberally mixed with his,

leading the experts to believe that they had been killed after the human victim.

All the animals were strays, but had been cleaned up before their throats were

cut. Simon had been impressed that the pair he'd worked with hadn't needed to

disturb the animals to know what had been done to them. From what he was able to

gather they worked as Wardens on the preserves of Africa - their homeland. Terry

had stood next to each carcass and simply told Rory what she'd found. Simon had

got a glimpse of what Jim would be like in ten years time and was awed. They'd

pointed to the anomalies on the bodies and mimed what they were pointing at.

Simon had taken pictures and tweezed samples at their direction and sent a full

load back to the lab - somehow Blair had managed to get the lab to dump all

outstanding work to get their findings rushed through.

Simon didn't want to know how he'd done it - but from the looks Blair received

when the lab technicians came upstairs with the reports the Shaman had struck

again.

The language barrier had broken down that night - the Sentinel and Guide pairs

had managed to teach a little of the basic to their watchers. Mime and simple

gestures were still the primary mode of communication, but the basic ideas were

flowing through smoothly.

Blair was working at his desk again, acting as the focal point of all the

activity. All new theories and findings were run by him, and he kept track of it

all on a paper map that he'd begun days ago. Sean and Ebony had provided some

new possibilities for their suspect and Joel was checking the files for someone

who matched. The killer had been careful as usual - but this time there had been

seven very focused Sentinels and their Guide's. Not to mention a pissed off set

of detectives.

By ten people were moving slowly and starting to stutter in exhaustion. Blair

looked around, took a deep breath and spoke softly to Simon. Then he sent the

Sentinels and Guides back to their room to rest while Simon sent his team home.

They arranged to come back later that afternoon. The bullpen emptied rapidly,

until only Simon Jim and Blair remained.

"Who the hell were you last night?" Simon smiled at Blair and got a tired grin

back.

"Sorry, Simon. I didn't mean to invade your territory," Blair's voice was hoarse

and Jim cleared his throat in sympathy.

"You didn't," Simon reassured him, "I've just never seen you like that. It

wasn't even a threat to me because I knew you'd hand my people back safely. If

we crack this case it will be because of what you did last night. I've got more

evidence than I know what to do with."

Blair smiled - the gentle thank you smile that made you feel proud and warm.

Simon smiled back and told Jim to take his partner home before he went to sleep

at his desk. Jim tucked an arm around Blair and took him home.

0o0o0

They broke the case that afternoon.

Simon pulled everyone and their files down to the main conference room on the

third floor and Blair stuck paper all over the walls to write on. Jim ushered in

the Sentinels and Guides. Everyone settled down and Simon kicked things off.

He called for information, ideas, hunches, wild theories and their grandmothers

knitting patterns to make some sense of what they'd found at the warehouse.

Blair pulled the information together, writing all over the wall and joining

ideas with coloured lines and streamers. The Sentinels added information in

their own language, which Blair translated into English for the others.

The Guides prowled the room with Jim beside them, talking in low voices and

gesturing. Something Jim translated from their discussion for the others sparked

off an idea for Rafe, who in turn inspired Brown and then Taggert jumped in.

Blair began moving rapidly, and writing it all down as Simon and Benson went

pawing through the few forensic clues they had. Voices rose in excitement and

hands waved for emphasis.

Three hours after they entered the room they knew who they were looking for.

Simon went for the warrant and the others prepared for the raid. Given this mans

tendency for violence they weren't taking any chances.

Blair instructed the Sentinels and Guides to resume their partnerships with the

Cascade PD, and pulled each detective aside to make sure the group would be able

to function without being endangered. He and Jim rode with Simon, Rory and Terry

to the junkyard that the suspect was using. The man had inherited the place from

his dead father - a man who'd died of brain tumors after a long illness. He

worked the yard when he could, but most of his income came from delivering

gourmet dinners to the upwardly mobile. The suspect was divorced - she'd left

him for a clerk - and his mother had abandoned the family at a very early stage.

His father had raised the boy in their ancestors' beliefs - and once the man had

died the support system became his focal point.

Or as Jim summed up 'the guy is one confused munchkin'. Blair had laughed at the

choice of words, which was what Jim wanted, and Simon pulled the car to the

side.

"Ok, are we ready?" Simon asked and received affirmatives from the other cars.

The idea was to let the Sentinels and Guides secure the area before sending Jim

and Blair in to make the arrest. Simon led Rory and Terry to their area and Jim

and Blair slipped into the junkyard quietly.

"Ok, Jim," Blair's Guide voice instantly focused Jim, "Extend all your senses

together. Tag each event you come to and put it aside for later. Map the

junkyard out in your mind, and then locate the suspect. We did this before - at

the boat yards last summer. We can do it here."

Jim took deep breaths and opened his mouth a little to taste the air as well as

smelling it. He let the density of the piles of scrap push against his skin and

the sound of them settling impress his ears. He let their size imprint on his

mind and tasted the decay of each piece. Blair waited a few moments and then ran

his hand along Jim's arm. Jim took a deep breath and looked down at his Guide.

"Ready to go?" Blair whispered and Jim nodded.

"Our guy is in the shack in the middle of the yard. There's a dog near Brown and

Denton. The stack that Rafe and Emmy are about to climb is unstable in the

center - they should go around to avoid knocking it down. We're moving in now,"

Jim said it quietly and moved off, leading Blair along the path quietly. They

were in hunting mode now - the Sentinel leading quietly, with the Guide

shadowing every move.

The man in the shack had no idea what hit him. Jim and Blair had him under

restraint in seconds flat. Rory and Terry located the place he'd cleaned and

collected the animals, and Denton and Sarah found his kit. No one was hurt,

everyone was happy.

Until Blair fainted in the middle of the yard from exhaustion.

"Time to call in that leave time," Jim told Simon, "And make it stick, sir. I

don't want him back at work until he's 100."

"You and me both," Simon replied. Terry tapped him on the shoulder and kissed

his cheek when he turned. She said something that Simon didn't understand and he

looked at Jim for help. The other Sentinels and Guides were ranged beyond her.

"What did she say?" Simon asked Jim. Blair answered automatically, his voice a

drone in the night air.

"They're saying goodbye - they're leaving tomorrow."

"Glad to see you awake, Sandburg," Simon growled gruffly, "Now shut up and

rest."

"They're leaving? Why?" Jim looked down at his Guide. Blair sat up, away from

the coats the others had spread for him to lie on. It was all so abrupt - Jim

felt like he'd been kicked in the shins.

"They all have their own lives to lead," Blair soothed, "Leave time and holiday

periods are over - Sean and Ebony have to return to school and also get the

kidnapping charges against Sean cleared. I'll speak to their parents before they

go home."

"I'll contact them too," Simon spoke up, "It's the least I can do."

"We'll see them off to the airport," Taggert spoke up, "Jim, take him home until

he's better. Say your good-byes now, Blair 'cause if you step foot outside

before you're healthy, I'll arrest you and throw you in the lock up."

Jim lifted Blair to his feet and he said his good-byes to his charges. No one

translated this time - and the Detectives figured it was none of their business.

He was in tears when Jim led him away to rest. Jim understood - a quick goodbye

was painful, but preferable to a long drawn out scene in the airport.

0o0o0

Epilogue

Simon sneaked into the loft two days later. Jim had said Blair went to sleep the

second they were home and hadn't woken yet. The Commissioner had ratified the

leave application without a word - not that Simon was surprised. Even sick,

Blair was a formidable force to be reckoned with. Simon shut the door softly and

put his keys in the basket and coat on the hook. He'd long since been given the

run of the loft by his friends - now he was more of an inhabitant than a guest.

The Sentinel was out on the balcony, meditating. Eight years ago the very idea

of Jim Ellison folding into a lotus position and contemplating his navel would

have sparked hilarity in anyone who knew him. Then Blair had stepped into Jim's

life and everything had changed. The meditation enhanced his control, so Jim did

it. He still wasn't up to Blair's level - the younger man had once meditated for

two days straight, sitting out on the balcony and scaring Jim with his

stillness. Knowing better than to disturb the detective and sure that his

presence wouldn't wake Jim until he was ready, Simon went looking for his other

detective.

Blair's doors were open and Simon peeped in to see his young detective sprawled

against the pillows, sleeping easily. His breathing was slow and steady and his

face had gained some much-needed colour. He would need to gain some weight to

look healthy again, but Simon's worries faded as he watched Blair curl onto his

side and sigh softly. Blair would be ok, this sleep was easing the last of his

illness away.

Not wanting to disturb either man, Simon helped himself to a drink and sat on

the couch. The Sentinel and the Guide were recovering. That was all that

mattered.

He'd be glad to have them back at work soon.

End

Comments, criticism, suggestions? Please e-mail Shedoc.


	3. International Law Enforcement

The International Law Enforcement ConferenceDisclaimer: The Sentinel, Blair

Sandburg, Jim Ellison, Simon Banks, and all other characters are property of

Paramount and Pet Fly. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money has

exchanged hands.

The International Law Enforcement Conference

by Shedoc

"Chief? You awake?" Jim Ellison asked, tension marring his voice. Bad enough

being crammed into what the airline called a seat for eighteen hours, now this…

"Yeah," Blair lied, his voice slurred with sleep, but instinctively responding

to the need in his Sentinel's voice. He pushed the blanket covering him aside,

undid his seatbelt and put his hands on the arms of the chair. He levered

himself up, folded his legs beneath himself and lowered back into the seat,

sitting Indian style and facing Jim. The trick worked - whatever had sparked the

tension in Jim was momentarily forgotten as Jim wondered how his Guide did that

in such a small space.

"What's caught your attention?" Blair asked calmly. After eighteen hours the

constant pressure of engine noise, other people confined with them and altitude

Jim's senses would be strained to the limit - the Sentinel was only Human and

couldn't keep turning himself off.

"I…" Jim hesitated, wishing he didn't have to do this, "I think there's another

Sentinel nearby. When … the last time I felt this, there was this tingling

feeling all along my skin and bones? I can feel it again."

"We're landing in twenty minutes. Maybe we're entering another Sentinel's

territory," Blair replied, his voice calm and accepting, "The thing to remember

here is that you are entering their territory, so this time you're the threat.

Until we can isolate the Sentinel and introduce ourselves you'll be feeling this

warning. I guess it's an instinct that developed to let each other know where

the borders of your territory are. Because Alex was invading your territory and

challenging your Guide you reacted violently to the intrusion. This time there

won't be any threat, so you'll be able to switch the warning off once we meet

him or her."

Jim shivered, not once pausing to wonder how his Guide could react so calmly to

a possible repeat performance of the nightmare. Jim leaned over the arm that

separated him from his Guide, needing touch to banish the tingle, and he got it.

Blair shifted so his shoulder supported Jim and traced a light figure eight

pattern on the back of Jim's hand.

"So, if I read our itinerary correctly once we get to the airport we catch

shuttle twelve to the Isis hotel and check in. The International Law Enforcement

Conference begins next morning with a formal breakfast at nine and then

introductory speeches until lunch," Blair used the Guide tone to anchor Jim to

here and now, "After lunch there's the first workshops and then dinner. I

thought that after dinner we might go for a walk - explore the area a little, be

tourists. Then the next day the discussion panels and lectures start for the

rest of the week."

"A whole week stuck inside when we could be on the beach of a lovely island,"

Jim grumbled, distracted by touch and sound. Blair tapped the back of Jim's hand

lightly, and started tracing swirls instead. The seatbelt light came on but

Blair ignored it.

"You got that right - but if it's warm enough we can swim at night. In fact it

would be a good way to wind down," he agreed, "Remind me to thank Simon when we

get back for sending us to this thing - it's the closest we've been to a

vacation since I became a cop."

"And the … other Sentinel?" Jim's voice was getting sleepy and Blair smiled - he

loved that tone of voice, it meant he was doing his job right. True, steering a

half-asleep Jim through airport traffic and hotel check in would be tiring, but

it was worth it.

"They'll find us," Blair soothed, "It's their territory, after all."

Breakfast was good - a buffet style affair with a wide enough selection to tempt

the fussiest eater. Blair shot a disgusted look at the heaping plate of bacon,

eggs, sausage and fried tomato that Jim had in front of him and decided not to

nag. Jim had slept well enough last night, but his bones were still tingling -

Blair could tell by the way Jim moved.

The morning speeches were boring. As was to be expected the top brass got up and

congratulated each other on being champions of justice. The huddled masses -

namely the cops who'd been chosen to represent their countries - sat through the

speeches with an air of resignation. Tomorrow was their day, when the panel

discussions would let them trade techniques and information.

"Remind me not to thank Simon for insisting on us getting here for the first

day," Blair murmured and Jim smothered a laugh. Simon had little choice in their

attendance of this conference. The upper echelons of the PD had made the

decision and sent it down. Jim and Blair were to participate as panel members in

several discussions - namely thanks to their unique style. Other cops from

different states had also been sent to the conference - they'd meet up tonight

at the dinner.

Lunch was again excellent. Blair made a couple of jokes about weight gain and

managed to get Jim to eat in spite of a fast waning appetite. The Sentinel was

twitchy all the way through the afternoon session and Blair got them out of

dinner early.

Instead of heading back to their room, Blair took Jim to the beach. He pulled

their shoes and socks off, rolled up their slacks and walked Jim along the edge

of the surf. The ocean at night was soothing to listen to and Jim started to

relax. Until two figures appeared in the distance, running towards them. The one

in the rear was a bulky male and he was yelling. The lead was a slender woman

and she was going full steam ahead.

"It's her - she's a Sentinel," Jim ground out and Blair stepped in front of Jim.

The woman skidded to a stop and gasped for breath. Despite the fact that they

were on the beach she wore a formal skirt suit and pearls with a hint of makeup.

Her stockings were full of snags and the man behind her was carrying low-heeled

shoes. The bulky man - her Guide - panted up behind them, still yelling in a

deep baritone voice.

"… For a fact! Just calm down!"

For a moment Blair mused that the man's shirt was yelling loud enough to be

heard back in Cascade and his chino's were a rumpled mess, as was the light mass

of hair that was being ruffled in the breeze.

"They're in my territory, Matt. I know that for a fact," she tossed over her

shoulder and Matt growled.

"Not intentionally. We were sent here for the conference," Blair answered before

he could, "We saw you there - are you local law enforcement?"

"Consultants for the locals - we do the forensic medicine side of things. You

know, work with the victims wounds and injuries to gather evidence," Matt

replied, stepping around so he was in front of the woman. With both Guides

between the Sentinels the tension went up a notch.

"Blair Sandburg," Blair introduced himself, putting out a hand. Matt's hand

engulfed Blair's in a strong grip.

"Matt Denton, and this is my wife Judy. So your friend there is hyperactive

too?" Matt shook firmly and Blair laughed.

"Actually, I'm considered the hyperactive one by our colleagues, but yes. Jim is

the Sentinel. I'm his Guide."

"And Shaman," Jim spoke up for the first time and Blair tipped his head in

acknowledgement, "I'm Jim Ellison."

Jim held his hand out and Matt shook it, stepping aside as he did. Blair held

out a hand to Julie, who shook hands stiffly and then the two Guides stood to

the side, making a square with the Sentinels on opposite sides. They reached out

hesitantly and gripped each others hand. Jim gasped as a jolt went through him -

like grabbing onto a live wire. Julie's knees started to buckle a little. For a

moment the jaguar appeared and roared, then it was over and the Guides were

supporting the Sentinels and speaking in low concerned tones.

"I'm ok," Jim looked down at his concerned friend and smiled, "And the damn

tingling has stopped."

"Amen to that," Julie straightened up a little and smiled for the first time,

"I'm not usually so territorial, I don't know what came over me."

"It's a normal instinct," Blair told her absently, still checking Jim over, "I

knew once the two of you met the problem would be resolved."

"Seems to me you know an awful lot about all this," Matt replied, letting his

wife straighten away from his support, "What did you call him?"

"A Sentinel. The name changes from language to language but the idea is always

the same - a watchman, guardian, and protector. Someone with five heightened

senses who needs a guide to back them up. Someone, whose job is to protect the

tribe," Blair let Jim straighten up too, and looked over at the others.

"And that makes me a Shaman?" Matt frowned, "Not a Guide?"

"Sandburg is both," Jim corrected, "But no, I don't see a Shaman in you."

"Are you saying my husband isn't good enough to be a Shaman?" Julie butted in;

eyes flashing and Matt grabbed her arm.

"Hey! Back down right now, Doctor," he ordered and she did.

"That's not what I meant," Jim replied, keeping his voice calm and even, "When I

was living in Peru the village Shaman was my … trainer. He taught me enough to

control all this stuff. But Blair was straight away my Guide. The first time I

touched him all my senses went from out of control to normal."

Blair started in surprise, obviously wondered who this was and would the real

Jim show up any time soon?

"Then the village Shaman came to Cascade. I guess he saw straight away that

Blair was my true Guide and when he … died he passed the way of the Shaman to

Blair too."

"So you're a Shaman in name only?" Matt asked in confusion and Jim spoke before

Blair could.

"No, he's not. The Shaman of a village was supposed to look out for the physical

and spiritual well being of the Sentinel and Guide. That's Blair's role now, as

well as training me as my Guide."

"Would the real Jim Ellison please stand up?" Blair blurted, "Where did all that

come from?"

"I've known it for a while, Chief. I just couldn't find a way to express it till

now."

"Well, going on what Jim was saying that would make your Uncle Ben our Shaman,"

Matt grinned at Julie, who rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Just don't tell him that. God, I could use an iced tea. Can we take this

somewhere civilized?" she gestured up the beach to where the lights of the city

shone.

Blair was a little subdued the next morning, still trying to process what Jim

had said about him on the beach last night to two perfect strangers. The first

panel of the morning got him going, though - it was about the sub-cultures of

crime and right up his alley. Especially when one of the panel members caught

onto playing devils advocate to him. There was almost a riot and people were

still taking about it at lunch. Julie came and sat with them at lunch and eyed

Blair speculatively. She wore jeans and an untucked blouse in deference to the

large amount of time they'd be spending sitting on hard chairs and listening to

other people talk.

"Are you always so - enlivened?" she asked and Jim laughed. He was totally

relaxed now that they'd met and stopped setting off each other's alert system.

"You haven't seen the half of it," Jim promised and Blair muttered something

neither of them caught.

"Where's Matt?" Jim asked, looking around. Julie grinned and pointed. Matt was

talking to an well-endowed woman in an abbreviated skirt suit. He was wearing

yet another loud shirt and chinos.

"That's Lieutenant Presley who's got him pinned to the wall. She's trying to get

him to resign from my staff at the ER and join her in forensics. I'd rescue him,

but he hates that."

"I hear that," Blair agreed, "What is it with Sentinels that makes you think a

Guide can't rescue themselves?"

"Past experience," Jim and Julie chimed in and then laughed at Blair's look of

disgust. Matt joined them then and Julie made a show of checking him for

fingerprints.

"So how do you do your work if you have to concentrate on the outside of a

city?" Julie asked when her husband finally fended her off. Jim gave her a blank

look.

"On the outside?" he echoed, "I don't get it."

"Julie's senses work best when she's focussed inside our patient. Being outside

is a little overwhelming. I guess we just figured it was the same for you," Matt

replied. Blair wriggled in his seat in excitement.

"Oh I get it!" his voice was muted, though it carried the enthusiasm of a shout,

"Jim, Julie uses her senses to diagnose her patients! I bet you can see down to

the microorganism levels right? And your touch must be better than an MRI!"

"Yep," Julie replied briefly, but she was smiling at his enthusiasm. Matt put a

proud hand on her shoulder.

"She's the best diagnostician in the ER. She catches things the machines never

pick up," Matt boasted and Blair grinned in excitement.

"That's incredible!" he enthused and Jim shuddered a little.

"What?" Blair asked right away and Jim shrugged.

"No offence, Julie, but I hate it when my sight sharpens that much. How do you

do it?" he asked and Julie shrugged.

"It's no worse than looking at samples through a microscope. I guess all that

clinical detachment you learn in med. school helps. So you don't focus your

sight like that?"

"Nope, not unless I'm looking long distance," Jim replied. Blair put a proud

hand on his shoulder.

"Jim uses his senses best when focussed outside a person. We use hearing to

track heartbeats sometimes, but that's as deep as we go."

Jim felt a surge of gratitude at Blair's tone. Blair was proud of him and

boasting about it! Blair grinned at his companions and watched Julie and Jim

compare techniques. He finished his lunch and urged the Sentinels on to the next

workshop, with Matt directing traffic around the two absorbed people.

After all, it wasn't everyday two modern Sentinels got to compare notes.

Trouble struck at dinner. The four had decided to blow off the formal evening

meal and instead headed to the Denton's apartment for a home cooked meal and

relaxed evening. All four of them ended up in the kitchen as recipes and

techniques were swapped. They moved well together - like a team. Blair wondered

idly if it was because of the Sentinel thing or just that Julie and Matt were

good friends - despite only knowing each other for a short time.

Dinner and dessert and the cleanup were a long series of jokes, bad puns and

word plays. The banter had started over Jim's disparaging description of a

certain forensics chief at Cascade and Julie had countered it with a disparaging

cop remark and before they knew it they were all happily engaged in teasing the

others professional foibles.

They were sitting out on the balcony with shoes off and beers in hand when the

phone rang. At the same time a cell phone and two pagers went off and Julie

jumped up, swearing.

"It's the hospital!" she yelled to Matt, who was stepping into his shoes and

collecting the beer bottles. Julie's face was grim when she returned to the

balcony.

"You two had better come too. The whole conference has gone down with food

poisoning."

"Good thing we ate at home tonight," Matt closed the door to the balcony.

"We'll meet you there," Jim nodded to Blair, urging him out of the apartment

ahead of the others, "I want a look at the kitchens and servers."

"You think it was deliberate?" Blair asked in surprise as they all hurried down

the stairs.

"I won't know until I get there, Chief. Julie, be careful, ok?" Jim couldn't

ignore his instincts now and Julie nodded, a frown marring her face.

"You too," she replied, "My gut is sending out red alert messages."

"Uh oh," Matt groaned and received a growl in response.

The hotel was in chaos - with a third of the stricken cops still there waiting

for ambulances. The smell of bile and sweat nearly overwhelmed Blair, and he

ordered Jim to dial it down as much as possible. As everyone was sick, not just

the people who'd eaten a certain type of food, Jim turned his attention to the

cutlery still on the tables and the plates themselves. Blair yelped a little

when Jim started rubbing his thumb over one of the discarded forks and grabbed

it out of Jim's hands.

"Jim! What are you doing, man? What if this is a contact poison? With your

senses you'll be ten times more susceptible!"

"I don't think it's a contact poison, Chief, or the people who handled the

cutlery to set the tables would be sick too," Jim said reasonably, "Besides I

got all I need from it. There's a coating to the fork that wouldn't have been

left by mere detergent."

Looking around, Blair watched as the local forensics team collected samples of

the food, drinks and utensils on the tables. He dropped the fork onto the floor

and kicked it under the table - it was tinted evidence now and putting it on a

table was too risky.

"I want you to come and wash your hands anyway," Blair replied firmly, "There's

no point in taking chances and I think the staff would have been wearing gloves

to set the tables so you could be wrong. Please? For me?"

"Ok, Chief, for you."

The hospital was still busy and Blair got the opportunity to watch a Sentinel

and Guide at work. Julie and Matt moved in total synchronization with each

other. They completed each other's sentences and anticipated each other's needs.

Matt would ground Julie by resting an arm against her while they worked, or by

calling the patient's vital signs in his deep smooth voice if he couldn't reach

her.

"I wonder if that's how we look to Simon and the others when we're in full

mode," Jim's voice startled Blair who glanced back and smiled.

"I guess," Blair's voice held his awe, "It's amazing - like watching a single

person who is in two places at once."

"I've often thought of us that way," Jim confessed softly, "We compliment and

complete each other. I mean I know you were a whole person before you met me…"

"You're right. We compliment and complete each other," Blair interrupted and

looked back at the doctor and nurse working to stabilize their patient, "And so

do they."

It was dawn before things quieted down long enough for the Sentinels and Guides

to gather. Jim and Blair had tea and coffee ready with pastries from a bakery

Jim had smelt nearby.

"It's not food poisoning," Julie said as she sipped her tea, "It's an alkaloid

based poison, though the first lab results won't be back for another few hours.

All we can do is treat the symptoms."

"Their cutlery had been dipped in something - probably a fairly high dose," Jim

confirmed. Julie looked at his hands and frowned.

"And you rubbed it all over your hands, didn't you?" she reached out, "It's

giving you a rash."

Sure enough there were small red marks slowly surfacing on Jim's fingers. He bit

back an exclamation and grabbed Blair's hands, checking for a similar rash.

"He's clean, Jim," Julie reassured, "Your skin is reacting because of the sense

I guess. Good thing I've been wearing gloves and gown."

"So the symptoms suggest alkaloid poisoning. I should get you some bile samples

and see if you can find traces in it - like we did for the Merrill kid last

Christmas," Matt mused and patted Julie's arm, "Be right back sweetheart."

"Merrill kid?" Blair asked eagerly - knowing a training exercise when he heard

one.

"It was on Christmas Eve last year. Worried parents and one very ill child came

to the hospital. The lab was closed down for the next two days - too long for us

to just treat symptoms and hope so I had the parents go get the chemicals they

found their child near. We put samples of each one into glasses and then I

looked for liquids of that composition in the bile. Found it too - the lab guys

were puzzled no end," Julie explained absently and then took a bite of her

donut, "Now he's always testing me on things like that - in milk, water, other

chemicals."

"It's a good thing you're not a doctor, Jim. I don't think I could do that,"

Blair confessed and Jim nodded.

"I know I couldn't do that," he agreed and Julie shrugged. To her it was just

part of the job and she dealt with it dispassionately. They had finished eating

by the time Matt returned with a small sample of bile on several slides. Julie

leaned back and held the slides up to the light. Matt stood close, ready to

catch her if she zoned and dropped the slide.

"Hmmm," Julie said after a moment and changed samples. Jim was struck by the

difference in Guides - Blair would have been talking by now, soft words of

encouragement. Matt simply laid a hand on Julie's shoulder and watched

carefully.

"It's not a cleaner," Julie put down the second slide, "It's composition is too

… orderly. I can't explain it. You know how ammonia looks sharp? Well this is

smooth. I guess it's a toxin, not a poison."

"What ever you say, Julie," Matt exchanged a resigned glance with Blair -

apparently all Sentinels forgot that their Guides weren't similarly endowed.

Julie humphed an apology and Matt grinned down at her.

"So this isn't a common mix?" Jim pressed the point and Julie met his eyes in

startlement.

"That's it! It's a mixture! Probably of several strong alkaloid chemicals - has

the pH. test come back yet?" she exclaimed and Matt shook his head. They got up

to go back to work.

"Jim - you specialize in external abilities right? If you smell one of the

treated pieces of cutlery you should be able to trace the scent. Just don't

stick it up your nose," Julie smiled. Jim opened his mouth to make a cutting

reply, but was beaten to it.

"Damn, that's his party trick," Blair laughed and the others laughed with him as

Jim cuffed his shoulder.

At the hotel the police were still working the scene. Employees had been

detained for questioning and the cleaning staff was starting to gather the

remnants for cleaning and disposal. Jim snagged a fork unobtrusively and stepped

into a corner to gently sniff at it.

"I've got it!" he sounded surprised and Blair grinned.

"Of course you do - you just had to know what to sniff for. Lets go into the

service corridor and see if you can find the scent there too - before the staff

track it back into the kitchens," he slipped a hand under Jim's elbow and tugged

him in the right direction, taking the fork away at the same time.

Jim found it harder to find the scent in the corridor - the smell of food and

people was almost overwhelming. Jim followed it down the corridor to the area

that housed the large dishwashers and sinks. Some quiet observation led to the

discovery that the hotel ran it's cutlery through the industrial dishwashers and

then they were hand washed as well to ensure nothing was left behind.

"It was there that the poison was probably added. See how the final rinse is in

a clear sink and then they pat it dry and put it in a rack? If the towels were

treated as well as the rinse water you'd have a pretty lethal dosage," Jim said

quietly to Blair who nodded.

"And because the dishwashers all wear gloves they wouldn't be exposed. Nor would

the dryers, because they wear gloves too - to avoid leaving finger marks on the

highly polished stuff," Blair agreed, "So is it someone who works this area, a

supervisor of inside knowledge we're looking for?"

"Motive will tell us that. Why poison an International Law Enforcement

Conference?" Jim mused and Blair groaned.

"Tell me you didn't just say that. We're cops - very few people like us, it's

the nature of the job, man," he bounced his eyebrows at Jim.

"Yeah, Darwin, but an International conference? That's one hell of a way to say

you don't like cops. All I meant was the usual motive of revenge is ruled out

here," Jim bounced his eyebrows back and Blair grinned.

"What if you were trying to discredit the hotel? Or maybe you wanted to make the

local PD look bad? Or maybe you were after one cop but decided to cloud the

issue by trying to kill heaps? Or maybe …"

"Remind me to ask Simon for a new partner when we get back. A mute would be

nice," Jim put a hand over Blair's mouth, "Those are all valid possibilities

Chief. How will we narrow them down?"

"Actually, Jim we don't need to," Blair said when Jim removed his hand, "All we

need to do is keep following the scent trail. With the way this has gone down

it's a good chance we'll be able to find out where this chemical was made at the

very least - and if it was done off site where it was stored until the cutlery

was washed. That ought to give us a leg up on motive."

"We're out of our jurisdiction here," Jim reminded Blair and a new voice spoke

up.

"I was wondering when that would occur to you," it said. The speaker was a

plain-clothes detective - dark hair, dark eyes and an amused mouth. He wore a

loose linen shirt and jeans.

"Detective Hall," he shook their hands, "Doc Denton called me and told me you

would be down here trying to get a handle on things. She recommended I let you

do your thing and tag along to make it legal."

"Ellison and Sandburg," Jim replied and Hall nodded. The amused look became more

evident.

"You're like the Doc, aren't you. She spots the impossible all the time," Hall

tilted his head and Blair shot Jim a look.

"That's us - six impossible things before breakfast," Blair spoke up and Hall

nodded.

"Well, go on then. I'll wander along behind. Just let me know before you disturb

possible evidence. The local judges will look on my hunches more kindly than

yours," he said easily and Jim turned away, dismissing the audience immediately.

He followed the faint trail to the sinks and then out into another service

corridor. He led the way to the staff locker rooms with Blair's hand in the

small of his back.

"Locker number thirty two," Jim called over to Hall, who was standing near a pin

board.

"Fernando Sanchez - now there's a name," Hall chuckled and pulled out his cell

phone, "We were going to get a court order for the lockers anyway - let me check

if it's in yet."

The usual staccato conversation followed and Hall crowed happily as he hung up.

"A couple of men will come and help us out in a moment," Hall rubbed his hands

together and leaned into the wall, "Of course, I'll share full credit with you

both."

"No thanks," Jim grinned, "We've got a rep back home for being trouble magnets.

If it gets out we were in the thick of things here they'll never let us out of

the country again."

All three men knew that they'd be in the official reports, but that was

different to being credited for the bust. A couple of uniformed cops entered and

Hall helped open lockers, working his way down to number thirty-two. Sanchez

still had the bottle of alkaloid in his possessions and Jim grinned at Hall.

The local detective closed his mouth and went to arrest Sanchez.

"So it's all over bar the shouting," Julie said later that night. Jim and Blair

had broken into the Denton's flat and cooked dinner for the two - knowing they'd

be exhausted after thirty-six hours at the hospital. The gesture had been much

appreciated - Julie had almost cried in relief to find a decent meal and peace

in her home. Jim and Blair had intended to leave, but Matt had threatened dire

consequences, so all four had settled to dinner.

"Yep. Sanchez confessed immediately to the poisoning. It seems his brothers'

restaurant went out of business when the hotel expanded its restaurant. He

wanted to get a little payback against the hotel. Add that to his criminal

record and dislike of cops…" Blair trailed off and stood. Jim followed his lead.

"We'll see you both tomorrow night," Blair smiled, "Our flight doesn't go for

another two days so we're going to use the time as a vacation. What with the

conference being cancelled and all."

"Sounds like a plan," Matt agreed and watched the two men leave quietly. He woke

his wife and took her to bed. They'd sleep until tomorrow night - of that he was

sure.

Epilogue

Matt kissed Julie awake and smiled at the beautiful eyes that sought his.

"Hey, you slept through," Matt congratulated his very pregnant wife. They'd both

been dreaming of a temple in a jungle lately, but last night the dream hadn't

come.

"Yep. Whatever it was, Blair and Jim took care of it."

"Along with the others," Matt murmured and stroked her belly, "Any news from

Junior here?"

"Another day or so," Julie replied easily, sighing as she was stroked, "When

she's a little older I want to take her to see Blair."

"And Jim," Matt replied, "Can't you see him cooing over our son?"

"And changing stinky nappies," Julie chuckled.

"Remind me to thank Simon for sending them on that awful conference all those

years ago," Matt murmured into his wife's neck.

END

Comments, criticism, suggestions? Please e-mail Shedoc.


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